Santa Baby
by notesofwimsey
Summary: At the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, the world changes forever. DL snowwhite fluff all the way. Sequel to Koumbaros and Koufettas.
1. Chapter 1: A Present Under the Tree

_A/N: Welcome to my new story, which is a sequel to Koumbaros and Koufettas (which was a sequel, and so on…) Some of the back story may be unfamiliar if you haven't read my other fics, but it shouldn't do more than cause a momentary confusion._

_I hope you enjoy this little Christmas gift, which is dedicated to chocobetty, melissouza, and Prefect Rachel. Merry Christmas, babies!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words: all characters belong to the creators of CSI:NY. _

Santa Baby

Chapter 1: A Present Under The Tree

_Santa Baby, leave a present under the tree_

_For me_

Lindsay Messer sat under the Christmas tree, staring out the window. Fat, fluffy snowflakes were falling gently on New York City, softening its rough edges and brightening its dark corners. In her apartment, the tree lights glowed and Christmas carols played, a soft mix of Celtic harp and flute, coupled with children's sweet voices.

There were piles of presents under the tree this year, from each of her brothers, even one from her father. Nearly every one of her seventeen Gray nieces and nephews had sent something: the older kids had mostly wrapped up framed photos taken last spring when she had visited Montana for the first time in four years, while the younger ones sent colourful felt-penned pictures of houses and horses and baby sisters and brothers too young to draw for themselves. Lindsay had taped them all over the fireplace and the windows, while her favorite ones were on the fridge. She felt as if four years of isolation had been swept away in a flood of being the favorite, exotic "big city" auntie.

She sipped her cup of hot chocolate contemplatively, and chose another cookie from the plate on the coffee table. This was her second Christmas Eve in New York as a Messer; last year Danny had taken her ice-skating at Rockefeller Centre, then to Midnight Mass with his parents and other family members. This year, Danny was on call, and sure enough, the phone had rung just as they sat down to dinner. He had made Lindsay promise to eat, but as soon as Danny went out the door, her dinner went into the garbage in favour of cocoa and cookies.

It was now nearly two in the morning. Danny was unlikely to make it home any time soon, she knew. Any case could take longer than expected, and no one would want to leave a family with unanswered questions at Christmas time. It was bad enough to contemplate the devastating loss of a person at this time of year without telling a grieving family that the office was closed until the holidays were over.

Lindsay sighed and pulled the comforter more closely over her shoulders. It was cold, and she was tired, but she didn't know if she could go to sleep. She felt as keyed up as she had as a small child waiting for Santa to come. Every day she woke up wondering if today would be the day. Not being at work for nearly four weeks had not helped, either. There just wasn't enough to do in a day to keep her from thinking, planning, worrying about the future. After doing enough Christmas baking to feed New York State, she'd finally phoned Stella in desperation and begged for some old case files to work on at home, anything to keep from going insane. The youth centre Danny volunteered at had appreciated the home baking, though.

Danny hadn't wanted to leave her tonight; she had had to kiss him and comfort him and assure him that she would phone if anything – anything – happened. For a while after he left, he had called every hour, until Lindsay had lied and told him she was going to sleep, knowing that he would never risk waking her up. Mac had been pretty patient, Lindsay knew, but Danny needed to keep his mind on the job, not just for the case, but for his own safety.

She thought back to the hot-headed young man she had first met in a tiger cage at the Bronx Zoo. He had seemed a typical wise-cracking, tough city cop at first blush, winding up the new girl, hanging the nickname 'Montana' on her. She'd seen him chase down subjects through traffic, into dark alleys, even straight off a roof. He was straight out of those cop shows of the 80s and 90s, always ready with the smart comment, always ready with his feet and fists when things didn't go his way.

But she had almost immediately been forced to re-visit that impression. When he got into the lab, that cheeky grin and smart-alec attitude turned into an almost impenetrable focus on whatever he was doing. She had quickly realized that he was as smart as she was, had more experience, and was gifted with an intuitive understanding of both criminals and the city that she might never match, no matter how long she worked in New York.

She hated that. Lindsay Gray Monroe never gave up, never forgot, was never late, and was never beaten, by anybody. The youngest of six children and only girl, she had fought to stand level with men her whole life. She was sure she could beat Danny Messer, even if his grin left her breathless, his closeness made her heart race. The competition between them had just fueled the attraction between them. It had not been simple or quick; they were both too complicated for that, with long and confused histories they carried around with them like concrete balloons. Family histories, choices made or rejected, actions taken or ignored: they had each had a lot to work through before they could move on.

Lindsay shivered as she thought of the night she and Danny had finally come together, after he had come out of hospital with a broken arm and some ribs. When she had taken him dinner that night, she had known she was going to have sex with him. They had danced around it long enough. She was sure it would be memorable.

What she had not expected was that intense sex would become all-encompassing lovemaking, or that she would finally fall off that fence she had been sitting on for so long, since before she met Danny or came to New York. Since her mother's death, Lindsay had kept a little distance from people in her life. This was made easier by the fact that her father and brothers, hurting just as much, had made the same choice. Distance was easier to cope with.

Danny, though, didn't do distance. Perhaps he had always been more open; perhaps he had realized after his brother's beating and best friend's death that distance didn't keep you from getting hurt. It just made sure you were alone in your pain. He had pushed through her defenses again and again, asking Lindsay to marry him the morning after they first slept together, then helping her through the issues with her family.

After her investigation into corruption in the Montana State Police had turned up a member of her own family, as well as her captain, she had been placed in protective custody until the trial was over. Her family had been discouraged from contacting her, although she was told they did not want to speak to her. That confusion and pain had caused her to change her name from Gray to Monroe, and helped her decide to go to New York when Mac offered her a job.

When her problems from Montana had followed her, he had fought to give her the space she needed, while standing close enough for her to reach out to him when she had to. Lindsay knew that the hardest thing for Danny to do was to step back and let her do what she had to do. His instincts were pure white-knight, but he recognized, as one of Lindsay's favorite fictional characters admitted, that "a desire to have all the fun is nine-tenths of the law of chivalry."

Lindsay hugged herself as she remembered the times she had tried to push Danny out of the way. He had always refused to be more than a step behind her, but he worked so hard not to get in her way. It had not been easy, the 15 months of their marriage, but she knew they were stronger now than they had been then.

She looked at out the window, seeing the room reflected. There was no fire in the fireplace; Danny had planned to kindle one before he left, but she had laughingly told him Santa couldn't come down the chimney if there was a fire blazing. Instead, she had filled the space with a basket full of pine branches and cones, which added their heavy scent to the room. Hanging on the mantel were three stockings: Danny's was full already, nearly too heavy to stay on its hook. The toe was distorted by the weight of a mandarin orange, and the rest of the stocking was full of little things Lindsay had picked up throughout the year. Lindsay Messer was a serious Christmas shopper. The latest best-seller by his favorite author (a crime novel, naturally), a large bag of his favorite chocolate, a bar of the soap he used (and she loved to inhale in the bathroom after his shower), a CD put out by a charity band, "The Lieutenant Dan Band", new socks and underwear, a toothbrush, and an electronic game to keep him entertained: all filled his stocking to overflowing.

She looked at her stocking, hanging flat and empty on the other end of the mantelpiece. She had made both stockings last year, sewing hers out of a pretty poinsettia-covered Christmas fabric and Danny's out of heavy red and green plaid flannel, which had made him laugh.

"Hey," she had said in mock anger, "I'll have you know that a good plaid shirt is a Montana sports jacket!"

Then he'd howled until he had to wipe his eyes before kissing her to thank her for his stocking.

Last year they had only had names on them: this year she had added a sheriff's star to Danny's, as he had finally been put back on the promotion grid and was now a Detective Second Grade. She had added a tiny angel figure to her own stocking.

In the middle of the mantle was a third stocking, made out of white fabric with a dark green Christmas tree appliquéd on it. Like Danny's, it was full, although there was no name on it yet. A tiny teddy bear was sticking out of the top, and it was filled with little toys, a couple of cloth books, a teething ring, and a soother. It was filled with a promise.

When Danny came home at 5:00 Christmas morning, he found Lindsay lying under the tree, her arms wrapped protectively around her large tummy, a pillow from the couch under her head and the comforter tucked in around her. The baby's stocking was on the floor beside her, her hand protectively holding it.


	2. Chapter 2: All I Want for Christmas

_A/N: Thanks to all readers and especially reviewers. Leave a comment if you have thoughts about the story, or tell me your favorite line!_

_Disclaimer: Characters (mostly) belong to CBS and the creators of CSI:NY._

Chapter 2: All I want for Christmas

_Baby all I want for Christmas is you_

_Ooh baby_

Danny leaned over and stroked Lindsay's hair gently, then quickly got her stocking down from the mantel to fill it before she woke. He already knew about the essential stocking gifts: the orange in the toe, the chocolate (he had bought Hershey's kisses in bright Christmas colours and flavours, as well as some more premium Belgian chocolate), the paperback book, the music. There were no flies on Danny Messer; once he realized that Lindsay and her family took Christmas seriously, he had taken careful note of what she said, every casual comment, and had done his best to make sure he followed the unwritten script.

The little blue box he put in the top of the stocking wasn't on her list, but Stella had assured him he could not go wrong with a box of that particular colour.

Finished, he stretched tired muscles. It had been a tough night and an ugly case: another domestic disturbance gone suddenly, fatally too far. They had arrested the wife that morning, and had her three children taken into care until family could be notified. What a way to spend Christmas. Stella Bonasera, who had returned to work only two months ago, had been visibly shaken, not by the crime scene, but by the children: the five and three year old girls had cried silently, but the seven year old boy had looked so tough, so unemotional. He had tried to stand between his father and mother. It was when his father's hand had swept the boy into a wall that the mother had pulled the knife which ended the argument.

Danny had handed Stella over to her husband, Detective Don Flack, who hugged her before helping her into the squad car. They were going home to share their first Christmas morning with Star Linn, a bouncy, engaging eight month old with her father's straight black hair and mother's deep green eyes and a giggle which could dispel even the worst nightmare.

"Call us if anything happens, Danny. Ma is on stand-by if you need us, okay?" Stella gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, and give Lindsay a hug for us."

"I will," Danny promised to both statements. "Is dinner still on?"

Don shook his head, "Naw, we cancelled it this year. What are you thinking, Messer? My ma held a full sit down turkey dinner for 25 people the Thanksgiving weekend my sister Sophia was due. Ma just told her to wait until after the dishes were done. Come if you can, okay?"

Danny nodded again. "I'll call." His family wasn't celebrating this year; his father had taken his mother on a cruise for Christmas. It was hard to have family times with his parents these days: Louie hung over them like a fog. Even the birth of their first grandchild wasn't enough to keep the Messers in town this year. His mother had phoned in tears, "I'm sorry, Danny. You know your father; he's made up his mind and there's just nothing I can do to change it."

Danny had reassured his mother. He couldn't find it in him to blame his father either; the past few years had taken a toll on them all. At least, if Lindsay and he decided to go out for dinner, they would be more than welcome at the Flacks'. In the middle of that large, uncomplicated family, it was hard to feel sad or lonely. They had been there for Lindsay and him in a way his own family had not been able to be.

Now Danny stood at his living room window, watching the dirty city come to life under a weak and hesitant dawn. The snow that had fallen during the night had turned to slush and frozen puddles, around which the few pedestrians moving through the streets tried to navigate. Already the roads were filling up; Danny could hear the characteristic New York traffic noise of honking horns, revving engines, slamming brakes, and swearing drivers. Nothing really changed, even in this "season of goodwill".

Over the other sounds, though, Danny could hear the church bells begin to peal, calling people to Early Mass around the city. In spite of his upbringing, Danny rarely went to church any more. It wasn't until Lindsay came into his life that he felt remotely connected to the idea of a caring and compassionate God. He certainly saw little evidence of it in his job.

But here. Danny turned away from the window and sat down on the floor beside his wife. After over a year, Danny still could not believe that she had agreed to share a life with him. Every morning he woke up and reached for her, afraid that this time she would be gone. Every night, he kissed her when she had fallen asleep, and thanked whatever universal force had brought her into his life. Sometimes, he even called that force God.

Lindsay stirred, her breathing catching slightly as she began to wake up. She stretched out under the comforter; her back and hips were killing her after sleeping on the floor.

"Whoa, look what Santa left for me under the tree!" a teasing voice said quietly in her ear. She smiled and reached up for Danny, her eyes still closed as she pulled him towards her for a kiss. He indulged both her and himself by deepening the kiss and pulling her into his lap, smoothing her hair with one tender hand. His other hand ran up her back in that gesture so peculiar to him, a warm, protective, almost possessive caress that told her everything she needed to know about how he felt.

She pulled back a little and smiled. "Merry Christmas, my love."

Danny kissed her again, lightly this time, and scolded her gently, "Why didn't you go to bed, Montana? You knew I'd be gone all night."

Lindsay shrugged. They both knew that she didn't sleep well when Danny wasn't nearby. "I wanted to wait for Santa," she teased.

"Well, look at that. It looks like he came!" Danny stood up and handed her the stocking he had filled just minutes before. "Do you want something - tea? Cocoa?"

"No," she laughed, her eyes brightening as she caught a glimpse of that famous blue box in the top of the stocking, "I WANT to open my stocking! But I HAVE to go to the bathroom first!" She held out her hands for him to help her up from the floor. She groaned as she stood, and Danny grabbed her quickly, looking into her face with concern. "Relax! My foot is asleep, that's all!"

He stepped aside with a sheepish grin and watched her walk, not waddle, he told himself firmly, to the bathroom. He followed her as far as the hallway and turned off at the kitchen. "Tea, Montana?"

"I want coffee," she grumbled as she went on to the bathroom. After several months of coaxing, Danny had finally convinced her that it was okay not to lock the bathroom door when she was in there. She still wasn't very comfortable with the idea, but she had conceded.

"Yes, dear, I know, but you'll drink tea or cocoa. Which? And how do you want your eggs?" Danny smirked at her outraged shriek. She came barreling down the hallway and burst into the kitchen.

"Eggs? You are not making breakfast! I want to open my presents! Danny!" she was scolding, whining, begging, and yelling at him all in one. He laughed; he'd been missing his spitfire the past few weeks.

"Your turn to relax! Stella made everyone some kind of Christmas bread thing; we'll have that. It should be warm by now." Danny had slipped it into the oven as soon as he got home. The coffee was ready and so was Lindsay's tea, which she accepted with a pout. Danny laughed and kissed her grumpy face, sucking lightly on the outstretched lower lip. "Can I just change first?"

Lindsay looked at him, and her heart sank a little; he was so good at distracting her. He looked exhausted: his eyes were deeply shadowed, his face strained. He'd keep going for her, though. She knew that.

"Why don't you go have a sleep, Danny? Was it a tough one?" She knew she didn't really need to ask.

"I don't need to sleep, Montana, but I wouldn't mind a quick shower and change of clothes."

"Go! I'll make some eggs to go with Stella's bread."

Danny's eyes lit up, but he wagged a finger at her, "No peeking, though. You've been good so far; just wait a few more minutes, 'kay?"

Lindsay grabbed his hand and gently bit his finger, then kissed it. "Go and shower, Messer. I might wait for you, if you're quick!" She shoved him out of the kitchen towards the bathroom.

As she cooked up some bacon and prepared his eggs, she listened to his progress in the shower so she could time his breakfast. When he walked out wearing an old sweatshirt and jeans, hair wet and face at least a little less strained, she put his plate down in front of him with a flourish. "Eat, eat! You're too skinny!" Their neighbour down the hall was an old Ukrainian grandmother with nowhere near enough grandchildren living nearby, who had adopted the young Messer couple. Danny had lived in the building nearly five years, and had not met Mrs. Hryncuik until last year when Lindsay introduced them.

He bit into the eggs and nearly groaned with delight. He had left without finishing his dinner the night before and had worked straight through on nothing but coffee since. As he ate, and Lindsay pushed eggs around on her plate, he caught her up on the lab gossip and told her a little, not much, about the case he had been called out on.

"The kids, are they going to be okay?" Lindsay looked down at the table.

"They have grandparents, both sides. Someone will want them, I'm sure, until their mom comes home."

"Will she?"

"The family history showed a lot of abuse. I'm not sure the DA's office will even charge her if they can work out a deal." Danny closed his eyes against the agony on the woman's face when she had realized that her husband was dead. She swore she had just tried to get him away from the son. Danny believed her.

Lindsay looked up to see his face shadowed and tired again. She bit her lip, and offered him a way out. "Why don't you sleep, Danny? We can open gifts later."

"Hey, Montana! What's this? You don't have to prove you love me!" He teased her, laughing as she blushed. "Come on. There's a stocking with your name on it." He pulled her to her feet and together they went to see what Santa had brought them.


	3. Chapter 3: My Love to Keep me Warm

Chapter 3: My Love to Keep Me Warm

_The snow is snowing and the wind is blowing_

_But I can weather the storm! _

_What do I care how much it may storm?_

_For I've got my love to keep me warm_

Danny turned on the Christmas tree lights and put on more Christmas music, choosing a compilation CD of contemporary tunes and picking up Lindsay's stocking as he passed by the fireplace. Lindsay curled up on the couch with a hot cup of tea, and pouted when Danny sat down beside her, holding her stocking just out of reach. "Let me have it. Why are you being so mean?"

"Now Montana, there are some rules about this." Danny grinned at her, resisting the urge to kiss her, for the moment at least.

"Why didn't we have rules last Christmas?" Lindsay argued. Danny's stocking was still hanging on the mantelpiece, but she couldn't reach it to hold it hostage.

"Well, now, I didn't want to scare you off too soon. I had to make sure you were going to stick, ya' know? But you're a full-blown Messer now; it's time to bring you into the full family tradition." His grin was positively wicked.

"You mean like eating breakfast before opening presents?" Lindsay moaned.

"Yes, that would be one." Danny couldn't resist her pout any more and kissed her sweetly. Her eyes fluttered closed. "The second is that we open one thing in our stocking, then the next person opens one. That way we can see everything everyone gets."

Lindsay opened her eyes again, "In my family, we just ripped all the presents open in about five minutes; then we looked to see what we had got." She sighed, before brightening. "But your way sounds good too. Only next year, no breakfast!"

Danny laughed and went to pull his stocking off its hook, turning around just in time to see Lindsay peeking in the top of her stocking, trying to see what was under the little box. He shook his head at her and said, mock-sternly, "What kind of example are you going to be for your children, Mrs. Messer? I can't trust you for a minute!"

Lindsay glared down at her belly, "If this one doesn't show up soon, there won't be any 'children' to be an example for! Just me, getting bigger and fatter and sitting around until I am the house!"

Danny sat beside her and leaned over to put his hands on her baby tummy. "Hey little one. You mama's getting impatient to see you, and I want to have a little talk with you about kicking me out of bed every night last week!" As he spoke, the baby stretched, and he could feel the little foot travel under Lindsay's skin from one side to the other. His smile lit up the room, and he followed the foot with his hand. "It must be getting crowded in there."

Lindsay sighed again. "Baby was due three days ago. I'm going nuts waiting."

Danny said quietly, "You know the due date's just an estimate, darling…"

Lindsay moved her hand in the classic "blah, blah, blah" sign, then placed the hand on Danny's cheek. "The baby will come when it's time," they chorused. Dora Flack had been to visit two days ago, and Lindsay had confided her worries, as she always did. Dora had been liberal with home baked cookies and motherly advice. Lindsay had finished off most of the cookies the night before (greed was one reason she had donated most of her baking to the youth centre), but she cherished the advice. Having lost her mother at 11 years old, Lindsay loved having an older woman to ask questions of, especially now.

She pushed Danny's stocking, which he had dropped when the baby moved, towards his hand. "You start."

Smiling, Danny shook his head and pulled the little blue box out of the top of Lindsay's stocking and handed it to her with a kiss. She opened the box and gasped with shock. Attached to a delicate chain, a silver Tiffany heart pendant with three perfect diamonds in the centre shone back at her.

Danny pulled the bracelet out of the box and put it on her. His fingers were shaking a little, she noticed. She ran her finger over it in disbelief, and breathed, "Danny, it's beautiful, but …"

He leaned over and stopped her words with a kiss. "Don't. Don't say but. Stop at beautiful. Because that's what you are. And that's what you have made my life. You and the baby are everything that is beautiful in my life."

Lindsay stared at him for a moment, deep brown eyes drowning in clear blue ones, and then hers filled with tears. She wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled him close for a kiss, tears running down her cheeks. "I love you," she whispered, as she finally pulled away. "And not because you have fine and expensive taste in jewelry," she teased. "At least, not just because of that!" She wiped her eyes and hugged him again. "I don't know what to say."

"You did just fine, Montana," Danny smiled, satisfied with her reaction. "My turn, I think?"

They went through the stockings one gift at a time, laughing at some, thanking each other for others. When Danny reached the CD, Lindsay showed him the website on the back of the CD, and told him she had donated money to the Operation Iraqi Children organization. "It was started by an actor, who plays in this group, "The Lieutenant Dan Band", and an author. They donate supplies to Iraqi schools and raise money for other things too. Mac told me about it, and I thought you'd like that."

By the time they finished the stocking gifts, Danny's eyes were rolling in his head, he was so tired. Lindsay glanced over to suggest starting on the tree gifts, and saw Danny could hardly keep his head up. Without a word, she got up from the couch and pulled him up with her. She led him to the bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. He was asleep almost before she had curled into bed beside him and pulled the covers over them both.

It was early in the afternoon when Danny woke up. Lindsay had napped a little, but had spent much of her time just watching him sleep. In the three years she had known him, he had changed so much, but when he was sleeping, she could see no differences in him at all. He looked young and at peace, his restless nature subdued and calm. She resisted the urge to touch him, knowing that would wake him instantly.

Finally, too restless to stay quiet any longer, but wanting Danny to sleep as long as possible, she slid out of bed and went to the kitchen to make another in an endless procession of cups of tea. She rubbed her belly unconsciously as she moved around the kitchen; the baby was quieter now than it had been two weeks ago. She rarely felt it kicking, although every so often it would seem to flop over like a person rolling over in bed, causing her to drop everything and just hold on until the baby settled again. The first time, Danny had been home, and had jumped up in a panic when she gasped. When she tried to explain the sensation to him, the best she could come up with was, "It's like being on a rollercoaster inside your own body."

His confused look told her that the image didn't explain much for him.

Today, though, baby seemed sleepy and not too interested. She had thought the major sugar rush of the past few days when she tried to OD on cookies would have got it going, but it appeared not. Her lower back was sore and every so often, a ripple of contractions would move over her abdomen. The first time that happened, she had leapt for the phone to call her midwife, who had reminded her about Braxton-Hicks contractions, a kind of training programme for labour, she called it.

"When you have contractions that make you lose your breath, then come in, okay? Otherwise, they'll admit you, and hospitals hate to let you go once the paperwork has been signed," Deborah laughed.

As the kettle boiled and Lindsay poured the water over the teabag in her mug, she smiled at the memory of Star Linn's birth eight months ago. Stella had not even gone off on maternity leave yet when the baby came, and had been born in the morgue, in what Stella still called her "sit-com" birth. The team had all been there: Sheldon Hawkes, with help from Sid Hammerback, had delivered the baby, although Don Flack had caught his baby daughter as she slipped from Stella. Danny and Mac Taylor had literally had Stella's back, as the tables in the morgue were not adjustable, and Lindsay, who had attended home births before, had been everywhere at once. It had been a loud, rushed, joyous occasion, and Lindsay had absolutely no desire to copy it.

She had briefly considered a home birth, even discussing it with Deborah, though not with Danny, and had finally decided that help was too unpredictable in New York City. In Stella's cases, a major traffic accident had closed a bridge and kept the EMTs from arriving until after the baby was born. Lindsay loved and trusted Danny, but she thought a nice clean hospital with people who could tell him what to do would be more comfortable for both of them, although she had secretly prepared a complete emergency delivery kit for the apartment just in case.

No such luck yet, though. Lindsay sighed as she took her tea into the living room and sat under the tree again. She was overdue, and the doctor said they wouldn't do anything as long as the baby remained content and healthy. She had to see the doctor every week and was to come in immediately if something changed. Other than Lindsay feeling tired and grumpy and ready to get rid of this burden, nothing had changed.

"Hey, why'd you let me sleep so long?" Danny stood in the doorway, looking rumpled and a little cross. "Is there any coffee left?" He yawned and wandered into the kitchen to search for coffee while Lindsay hid a grin. Waking up merry and bright was not one of Danny's gifts. He'd come back to his usual sweet self after some caffeine. She had long ago learned not to react.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, she heard his bare feet on the floor and smiled up at him when he dropped a kiss on her head. "So, I can't believe you've been so patient. You must be growing up!"

Lindsay shook her head and laughed, "Nope! Just slowing down. Hand me a package, Santa!"

_A/N: If you want to see the Tiffany Heart Danny gave Lindsay, they do have a website for drooling over._

_The Operation Iraqi Child organization is a real charity started by Gary Sinise (the actor mentioned by Lindsay), and the Lieutenant Dan band performs benefits for various causes. Unfortunately, there is not yet a CD available, although there is a website. _


	4. Chapter 4: A Merry Little Christmas

_Disclaimer: All characters recognizable from the show belong to CBS and the creators of CSI:NY. All OOC characters belong, mostly, to my Flack family._

Chapter 4: A Merry Little Christmas

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas.  _

_Let your heart be light,_

_From now on our troubles  _

_Will be out of sight._

Danny cleaned up paper from under the tree while Lindsay found places for all the photographs and gifts around the small apartment. There wasn't much room, between the things Danny had had and the things she had brought with her, but Lindsay couldn't bear to leave a single present not displayed.

Her favorite picture was one taken of Danny and all 17 of her nieces and nephews sitting on hay bales out in Montana. Danny was wearing a borrowed cowboy hat and boots, and holding one of her brother Joey's twin girls. He was grinning at the four little cousins mugging for the camera in front of him.

Lindsay hung that picture on the wall of the little space they had created for the baby. "There, baby," she said to her belly, "All your cousins are waiting for you. Hurry up, can't you?"

She turned to see Danny looking at her quizzically. "Well," she said a little defensively, "She might as well get used to listening to me!"

Danny laughed, "Honey, he'll be a Messer! He won't listen to anyone! How ya' doin'? Do you want to go to Flacks' for dinner?"

Lindsay winced at the thought of all those people saying, "Are you still here?" and making clever comments about giving birth to an elephant. On the other hand, she hadn't seen Stella or baby Star for nearly a week. In fact, she had hardly moved outside the apartment all week as the weather had been so bad, and she needed some company before she fell even deeper in to the doldrums. She nodded, but added a warning, "The first person who squeals and rubs my tummy is going to be wearing eggnog!"

Danny threw an arm over her shoulder and kissed her, "I promise to take out the first one who makes a clever comment!"

They said together, "Unless it's Stella!"

Lindsay dressed carefully for the party. Even if she felt like a Macy's Parade blimp, she was determined to put on the best show she could. Her red velvet dress was cut low, showing off her enhanced assets (Danny definitely enjoyed that aspect of Lindsay's pregnancy!) and stopped above the knee. She pulled her hair up off her neck and used makeup for the first time in weeks. She reluctantly slipped into a pair of low-heeled shoes; her feet were too swollen for her gold heels that made her nearly as tall as Danny. When she came out of the bedroom in a subtle wave of perfume, Danny's appreciation showed in his eyes. "Mrs. Messer, you look too fine for a married woman!"

"Just perfect for my married man, then. You look pretty fine yourself!" Danny was dressed up too, in a suit and tie. "Trying to keep up with Don?" She smiled at him teasingly as she tidied his tie.

Danny rolled his eyes, "No one matches the NYPD clothes horse, Montana; you know that." Under Stella's careful tutelage, Don's natural flair for snappy dressing had become a positive obsession.

The Flacks' front door was wide open, and lights and music were both streaming out into the dark New York evening. Lindsay whispered to Danny, "I feel a little funny going in the front door; I've never done that before!"

Danny wrapped an arm around her, "This is an occasion, Montana, and even the Irish open the front door for a special occasion!" With a flourish, he handed Don Flack Sr. a bottle of Scotch and another of red wine. "The Scotch is from my father, sir, in apologies for not being here to wish you a happy Christmas himself."

Don Sr. took the bottle and subjected it to careful scrutiny. "Well," he said doubtfully, "It doesn't _look _damaged."

Lindsay said, "Excuse me, sir?"

"I guess it fell off a very slow moving truck!" Don Sr. completed the thought, grinning at Danny and slapping him on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Detective Messer."

A swarm of Flack grandchildren descended, dragging Uncle Danny off to see the latest games and toys that arrived that morning. Lindsay watched them with a smile. "He's so good with kids," she said quietly, thinking about the picture her brother had sent her with all her nieces and nephews.

"Probably a good thing," Don Sr. joked, looking down at Lindsay.

"Lindsay!" She heard Stella squeal and turned in time catch her hug. Don Jr. was standing behind his wife, holding their daughter Star Linn and grinning. He leaned over to kiss Lindsay on the cheek, while Star cooed and held out her arms. Lindsay took the baby, gave her a kiss, then kissed Don as well.

"Hey, Lindsay, you still here?" Don Jr. said. "What, you having an elephant? You know they gestate for two years, don't you?"

A hand tapped his shoulder and he turned to see Danny staring at him sternly.

"Come on, Flack, let's take this outside," he said, shaking his head with a sigh.

"What? What are you talking about?" Don Jr. looked confused. Lindsay was biting her lip, trying not to burst out laughing.

"I promised to flatten the first person who said anything stupid to Lindsay, like 'are you still here' or 'are you having an elephant'. Guess you won yourself two beatings."

Flack looked down his nose at the shorter Messer. "Like to see you try it, buddy boy," he retorted.

Stella stepped between the two men and said, "Lindsay, we need an impartial judge here."

"I don't know," Lindsay said thoughtfully. "Danny did promise, and I think he could take him. What's that?" She turned to the baby who was babbling in her ear. "You think Daddy could beat up Uncle Danny? Oh, but you think your grandmother may have something to say about it?" She kissed Danny and said, "Thank you for defending my honour, but you'll have to find some other way to beat Don tonight, I think. How about a nice game of Monopoly?"

On a wave of laughter, Lindsay turned to greet Dora Flack, Don's mother. Greetings and hugs and people and more people later, Lindsay found herself installed in a chair in the kitchen, helping to fold napkins. Star had been scooped by one of her older cousins; children and adults wandered through the kitchen talking constantly.

Sitting beside her and polishing already perfectly shining silver serving spoons, Stella noticed the bracelet. "Danny told me about it, but he wouldn't let me go with him even though he knows how much I love Tiffany's! He was determined to do this by himself. He knew exactly what he wanted." Stella's eyes filled with tears as she touched the pendant. "Three diamonds, Lindsay: one for you, one for him, and one for the baby."

If Danny was surprised by the kiss Lindsay gave him when he wandered into the kitchen to grab another beer, he didn't say anything, just enjoyed it.

At one time the noise of a Flack family event had overwhelmed Lindsay, used to her Montanan brothers who were more the "speak when spoken to" type. She had more brothers than Don had sisters (five to his three) though, so she was used to a large family. The Flack girls, Maria, Elena, and Sophia, had managed between them to bring ten children into the world. With little Star, Dora was a happy woman with her eye on at least a few more grandchildren to spoil and feed. She considered the Messer baby to be the next in her matriarchy, making her count a round dozen. She was waiting for Don and Stella to bring it up to a baker's dozen.

They sat down to dinner in two rooms: sixteen at the adults' table and ten at the childrens' table. The older children looked after the younger ones, patiently wiping up spills and mediating fights. At the adults' table there was much talking and laughter over a sumptuous feast.

A little concerned that it might be too much for her, Danny whispered to Lindsay, "Ya doin' okay there, Montana?"

She flashed him a huge grin as she turned back to Don, who was sitting beside her, explaining the traditions. First there was the pulling of crackers: everyone had to cross hands in front and find the little tab in each neighbour's cracker, then everyone pulled in one glorious bang. From the childrens' room came an echoing sound, coupled with crying children, scared by the noise.

Once parents returned from soothing babies, all were expected to wear the silly hats, and read out the jokes. There were noise-makers and little games and toys to play and trade.

Before carving the turkey, Don Sr. called all the children in to the living room, then stood at the head of the table, and cleared his throat. "Dear Father in heaven, we thank you for this gathering of friends and family. We ask your blessing on this food, on the hands that prepared it, and on all those who share it. We pray for those who in this season of love and plenty are alone, are in sorrow, are in need. May we find ways to help them."

Dinner was served. Dora was never in her chair for more than a moment, constantly running back and forth between her grandchildren, the living room, and the kitchen, making sure that everyone had enough to eat and more to drink.

When they finally had finished the meal, everyone crowded into the living room, which was only used for special occasions, where the fire was lit, and people perched wherever they could find room. Most of the children were on the floor, with the very little ones already beginning to nod off on blankets and laps.

The children began the evening: Maria's sons James and Christopher reprised the duet they had sung at Midnight Mass,_ Panis Angelicus, _in voices so sweet Lindsay could swear she heard the angels whisper in admiration. Elena's daughter Caitlin sang _I Wonder as I Wander_, then led the younger children in singing _Away in a Manger,_ complete with actions. Rhianna, Marie's youngest, who had been Stella and Don's flower girl, completed the programme, singing _Silent Night_.

When all the children who wished to had performed, the family sang all their favorite carols, accompanied by Dora until her hands were tired, then by Elena. After several carols had been sung, and small children were nodding off, Sophia, the youngest Flack daughter, sang _Ave Maria. _ It was so beautiful, Lindsay felt tears fill her eyes. But it was the final song of the evening that had the tears spill over, when Don Sr. stood to sing _O Holy Night_. His clear tenor with its slight hint of Irish ancestry swelled through the room like an benediction on his family and their guests. It was a perfect ending to a wonderful evening.

_A/N: It's Christmas Eve where I am, so this is a gift to all my readers and especially my reviewers. May this holiday season find you where you most want to be, with the people you most want to spend time with, making memories to last you through the times when you cannot be where and with whom you want._

_Merry Christmas to you all. _


	5. Chapter 5: Let It Snow

Chapter 5: Let It Snow

_Oh the weather outside is frightful,_

_But the fire is so delightful,_

_The lights are turned way down low,_

_Let it snow, let it snow, let is snow_

"Danny, we'll give you a ride," Don offered.

"Yeah, man, thanks. That snow keeps coming down, there won't be a cab free for hours. We'd have to sleep over at your Ma's." Danny answered.

Being a little awkward, Lindsay sat in the front seat, while Stella squeezed into the back with Danny and the baby in her car seat.

Danny sat quietly while Stella, Don, and Lindsay chatted about the evening. Star had grabbed his hand before falling asleep, and her fingers were wrapped tight around his. He watched her dream, her eyes moving under the delicate eyelids, her mouth moving as if she was smiling and talking even in her sleep. He could see both Don and Stella, a perfect mixture, in her sweet face: Stella's startling eye colour, but Don's high cheek bones, Don's dark, straight hair, Stella's determined chin.

He dreamed a little of their own baby, wondering what he would look like. For some reason, Lindsay, who had predicted with fair accuracy all her nieces and nephews, would not say what she thought their baby was. Danny was sure it was a boy, although he didn't know why. He didn't think it was any macho thing; he looked at Star and wondered how anyone could complain about having a little girl. He knew for sure that Don wouldn't have traded her for any number of little boys. Danny was pretty sure his friend wouldn't mind just adding a few more children to the family.

He was almost asleep when they got to his apartment. He felt exhausted; the case on Christmas Eve had really taken everything out of him. Not for the first time, he envied Don his uncomplicated family. They always seemed such a close group, close enough to easily open and take in people who needed a family, like Lindsay, and Danny himself. The Messer clan was just as close-knit, but there were so many dark places in his family: things people were not to know or talk about. Don Sr.'s joke had cut a little close to the bone, although usually it wouldn't have bothered him.

Lindsay noticed that Danny was very quiet as they said good night, and walked close to him as they went upstairs to their apartment. She could see that he was tired again, so didn't bother asking what was wrong. She knew he wouldn't tell her until he was ready.

She kicked off her shoes as soon as they stepped in the door, and sighed in relief. Danny reached to help her off with her coat, and she turned into his embrace eagerly, kissing him with all the passion she was capable of.

Danny eased back in surprise; sex had not been a high priority the past few weeks as Lindsay had become larger and more uncomfortable. The light in her eyes assured him he had not misread this signal, though, and his tiredness dropped like a start flag at a race track. He wrapped his arms around her still slight frame and lifted her easily, laughing against her mouth when she squealed.

Instead of going to the bedroom, he surprised her again by turning to the living room, snapping on the Christmas tree lights. Sweeping the couch cushions onto the floor and grabbing the coverlet Lindsay had slept under the night before, Danny quickly created a little nest for the two of them under the tree and pulled her gently down beside him. They went slow, kissing and caressing. The first thing Danny did was to take down Lindsay's hair, running his hands through it until it fell around her face in wanton curls, which she swept over his stomach as she kissed her way down his body, undoing his tie, then the buttons on his shirt, pushing it and his jacket off him slowly.

He pulled her back before she went lower. He wanted this to last as long as he could, and he knew she would finish him far too fast. He wanted to unwrap her like a particularly precious present, starting with the pretty party dress, but first he did something he had wanted to do since she had walked out of the bathroom that afternoon. He sat up and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her on the lips, then trailed his mouth down her throat, pausing at the pulse point which still gave off a subtle scent from the perfume she had placed there hours before.

His hands moved up her body to cup her breasts as his mouth descended to explore. His clever tongue searched under the soft fabric, teasing and licking. Lindsay gasped as his hands quickly moved under her dress and pushed it over her head, trailing tantalizingly over her skin. She felt as if her body had been dipped in hot water while every place his fingers touched sparked as if with a static charge.

Her eyes were wide and dazed as his lips continued to explore her, returning again and again to her red, swollen mouth. His hands moved from her back to her thighs, and he ran his fingers teasingly over the tops of her stockings. She moved against him, reveling in the evidence of his arousal against her.

He moved her reluctantly off his lap so he could strip off his remaining clothes, and help her with hers. Finally, they lay skin to skin, spooned against each other so that there was no pressure on the baby. Then it was sweet and slow, sighs and sobs of pleasure. The Christmas tree lights shone on sweat-slicked skin and lit the night in a soft glow.

Sated, they lay together, arms tightly wrapped around each other, when Danny suddenly realized that Lindsay was actually shivering, not just shuddering from the afterglow. "What's the matter?" he said, concerned.

"Nothing! I'm just cold, that's all," she confessed, looking at him over her shoulder with half-shut eyes.

He licked his lips. She had no idea how she affected him, wanton and sexy, with her flushed and satisfied face half-obscured by her honey-blonde hair. "Well, we can't have that." He swung her into his arms again and carried her into the bedroom where they made love again, carefully, almost delicately. She finally fell asleep looking so smug he had to laugh as he tucked the blankets in around her.

He went to have a shower and make some coffee. He couldn't sleep yet; too many images were running through his head. The evening with the Flacks had coalesced a couple of things he'd begun to deal with in the spring, when Lindsay and he had taken their trip out to Montana to meet all of Lindsay's family. That had been an intimidating prospect to say the least, even though he had met three of her brothers in New York when they rode into town to save their little sister, only to find, like Danny himself, that she was pretty well capable of saving herself.

He'd met her older brother, who had been caught up in the corruption scandal Lindsay had broken, and was now learning to re-make his life, as well as all the wives, children, and assorted family who seemed to cover the state of Montana from one border to another. He'd met her father, who made little secret of the fact that he didn't approve of the Messer charm, the Messer accent, or the Messer background.

Then there had been Don Sr.'s joke tonight, referring to his family background as a "family of interest" to the NYPD. It wasn't that he had never thought about this stuff before: he had. Nearly every day in college, every day in the Academy – hell, nearly every day in the Minor Leagues, he faced questions and curiosity about his family and how they were "connected". Now, tonight, he just needed a little time to process some of those questions before his life changed forever within the next few days.

The thing is, he'd always seen himself as essentially an urban animal. He loved the city, wearing it like an extra jacket, shrugging into it as he walked out the door. He knew every street in his neighbourhood, had walked the alleys and dark corners until he knew every scent, every shadow. The night before Lindsay had finally admitted her feelings for him, he had jumped off a roof chasing a suspect. He had spent his adolescence doing just that, exploring the rooftops in most of the downtown neighbourhoods. It was a fast, secret, and above all, cool way to get around the city without worrying about who was looking for you. If you knew your way about, and no one knew his way about like Danny Messer, you could get from one end of the city without ever touching the ground.

He had moved into his own apartment, this apartment, as soon as he was accepted into university, working two, sometimes three jobs to afford it. His mother had cried and his father had yelled, but he had been determined to get out of the family home and make it on his own. With only a few slips, he had done just that, making a life and a home for himself that owed nothing to his father's connections or his mother's family. He had done so well, in fact, that he had come out of school and into the lab a little ahead financially, which was a relief, as a CSI's salary was not generous. In spite of many temptations, he had stayed clean. Mac Taylor was his model for how to stay on track.

He thought he had everything he wanted and needed, and then Lindsay had walked into that tiger cage at the Zoo and he had been lost. He had never expected marriage, or children, to be part of his life, had never worried about it.

He looked around the apartment he had chosen at 21, had lived in for nearly a decade, had shared with no one until now. He looked at the corner of the living room, where they had carved out a little space for a cradle and change table for the baby. It was a little too close to a window, and the cradle covered a cupboard door, which they had filled with items they didn't think they'd need very often. He turned his back on the room, and stared out the window at his city.

It was time to look for a home, one that would fit a family.


	6. Chapter 6: The Most Wonderful Time

_A/N: Thanks to all the people who are reading this story, and a big thanks to all those who have left me a note reviewing the story and telling me favorite lines or moments._

_Warning: mild relationship spoilers for Season 3_

_Disclaimer: CSI:NY belongs to CBS and the creative team. Too bad._

Chapter 6: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

_It's the most wonderful time of the year_

_With the kids jingle belling  and everyone telling you _

_"Be of good cheer"_

"Danny? Danny, is that you?" Lindsay called from the living room.

"It better not be anyone else walking into our apartment, Montana," Danny called back as he walked from the front door to the kitchen. The lab had been hopping as they tried to complete all the testing that had built up over the holidays, and he was starving.

"There's some soup in the fridge," Lindsay offered as she followed him, and poured herself a glass of water.

"Did you eat?" Danny eyed her sternly.

"Mmm." Lindsay's reply was muffled by the glass to her lips, but her eyes were wide and innocent.

"Lindsay," Danny groaned in frustration, "You have to eat. And not just soup every day."

"I know. I tried, really I did." Lindsay turned away from him. It was impossible to explain that eating made her feel sicker than not eating did. She was just too tired to chew, she decided. That's why soup made sense.

Danny tried to hide his concern; she had lost weight the past two months, and still had morning sickness, or, as she liked to call it "all-day and all-night sickness." Danny had had to stop using garlic and onions in his cooking, which, as he said, was like telling an Italian to stop cooking altogether.

Still, he comforted himself, it couldn't be much longer. It really couldn't be. It was New Year's Eve today, and Lindsay was now ten days overdue. She had been at the birthing centre again that morning, having non-stress tests and exams to make sure the baby was fine, and everything looked set for a blessed event any day, any minute now, she had been told. Again.

Lindsay finished her water and held out her arms for a hug, which Danny gladly gave her. She held on a little longer than she needed to, "I missed you today. I hate being at home. How is everything at the lab?"

"Well, why don't you come and find out for yourself?" Danny asked, hugging her again and running his hand down her back. "Stella's planning a New Year's Eve party at the lab – too many people on shift to do anything else. Why don't we go?"

Lindsay nodded, "Stella phoned me at lunch and invited me."

"So what do you think?" Danny sat down with his bowl of soup and a cup of coffee.

"I'd love to see everyone … " Lindsay's voice trailed off.

"Then we should go." Danny looked up in time to see her bite her lip in worry. "What's up?"

"I don't want to have my baby in the morgue," Lindsay's voice was so quiet, Danny almost didn't hear it, but he saw her face and that told him everything.

He jumped to his feet, "Are you in labour?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know!" Lindsay admitted. "I've never done this before. I'm having contractions, but then they stop when they're about 3 minutes apart."

"Did you phone Deborah?" With one hand, Danny reached for his cell, which had the midwife's number on speed dial, while with the other hand he reached out and gently rubbed Lindsay's tummy, as if trying to coax the baby to make an appearance.

"Yes. She said to wait. This stage of labour with a first baby could take hours, and I'd be better off at home than waiting in the birthing centre. But I don't want to sit at home any more." Lindsay was nearly crying with frustration herself now.

"Look, why don't we go to the party? Just for a few minutes, anyway," Danny added quickly. "You'd be able to get out of the apartment and see some people, and we could leave as soon as you got tired. You don't have to dress up. Everyone would love to see you – they ask about you all the time."

Lindsay chewed her lip again, uncertainly. Danny had just come home from a 12 hour shift; she was sure he would prefer to stay at home. On the other hand, she hadn't seen Sid, Mac, or Sheldon for over two weeks, and missed hearing about cases and Christmases. "I would like to go, even if just for a few minutes. Would you mind, Danny? I know you're tired."

Danny grinned, "Who, me? I'm always up for a party! Just let me have a quick shower and change, and then we'll go."

By the time she had changed into a pretty but comfortable velour top and skirt, and Danny had made himself ready, and they got to the lab, it was already after 7 o'clock and the party was in full swing.

They were greeted at the door by Sid, who said, "Have you come to let me deliver this one, too? I'm thinking of opening a birthing room downstairs: one table, no waiting, city employees only."

She laughed and shook her head as he kissed her cheek and handed Danny a bottle of beer. "I don't think it will catch on! But I'll keep you in mind."

Lindsay was swiftly passed through a crowd of lab rats and casual acquaintances, all kissing her or patting her belly or both, until she finally ended up at the far end of the lab, where Sheldon Hawkes stopped her progress with a hug and, even better, a chair.

"Lindsay, you look wonderful! How are things going?" Shel smiled down at her, raising his voice a little to get over the noise of the crowd. He was one of the few people who did not touch her tummy; Sheldon was always careful about personal space. Adam, who had been talking to Hawkes when Lindsay came up, was another one who did not touch her; in fact, he blushed scarlet when he looked at her, and carefully avoided coming near enough to risk bumping into her.

"Good. Let's talk about you. Tell me everything that's happened in the last month!" Lindsay exclaimed, and settled in to talk to first Hawkes, then Adam. They both had family in New York to share Christmas with, so Sheldon told her about his mother, "She's always asking me about finding someone special, and grandchildren, and when am I going back to that nice clean hospital. At least the dinner was great – my mom cooked up a storm!"

Adam told her a long and involved story about going clubbing on Boxing Day and ending up with some girl's cat, which he was allergic to, but was keeping in case she came back to get it. He didn't know her name, or where she lived, and couldn't really remember what she looked like, so Lindsay thought the cat might end up a permanent fixture in poor Adam's life.

Then Peyton wandered over to greet Lindsay and check her out, a little jealously. She had just come back from visiting her family in England and was full of horror stories about the airports, which, told in her dry British voice, sounded much funnier than they probably had been to live through.

Lindsay didn't see Danny anywhere, but she assumed he had been swallowed by the same crowd that had caught her, which would spit him out eventually.

Before that happened, though, Mac showed up, so she stood up to kiss his cheek and wish him a Happy New Year. She wanted to know everything; how his Boxing Day lunch with Reed, his new-found stepson, had gone; whether he and Peyton were still doing okay; how the holidays had affected him. Some of those were questions not even the closest friend could ask a person like Mac. Lindsay had grown up with uncommunicative men, however; she could read a Mac much better than a Danny, who talked so much she had to sift through everything he was saying to figure out what was important.

"How was your Christmas, Mac?" she contented herself with saying, and listening to his answers with both her ears and her heart, was satisfied that Mac was doing well. The fact that he had his hand on Peyton's back was a good clue, as well.

Danny finally showed up through the crowd, bringing Stella and Don with him, before going off again to find Lindsay something to drink. Lindsay caught up with the Flacks briefly, and promised a proper visit the next day, when both were off shift and could bring Star. After a while, though, Lindsay struggled out of her chair, and said her goodbyes. Her feet were restless, as if she had to get moving, so she went off in search of Danny.

"Hey, Montana, where you off to?"

She heard his voice behind her and turned to him.

Her eyes were huge, he noticed first thing, and she had a hand pressed to her belly. "Okay, _that _was a contraction," she said under her breath. Then she grinned at him, "Time to go, cowboy. Don't tell anyone."

Ten minutes before midnight, everyone in the lab was standing around the clock used to call time of death (Dr. Sid's idea of appropriate symbolism), and waiting for the countdown, when Don, who was tall enough to scan a crowd pretty quickly, leaned over to Stella and Mac beside him and said in a carrying voice, "Where're Danny and Lindsay? Did they leave before the big moment?"

Mac glanced around and said, "I haven't seen them since about 8:30."

Stella grinned, "I suspect the next time we see them, Lindsay will look a bit relieved!"


	7. Chapter 7: New Year's Eve

_Disclaimer: CSI:NY is the intellectual property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer Television. _

Chapter 7: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

_What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?_

_Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight_

_When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night_

_Welcoming in the New Year on New Year's Eve_

"Okay, Lindsay, you're doing fine. You're about 8 centimetres dilated, so you have a ways to go. Just remember to breath through the contractions, and you'll be fine." Deborah's voice was calm as she patted Lindsay's hand and helped her off the table back on the chair she had been straddling.

Danny rubbed Lindsay's lower back, trying to keep her focused on breathing and not on the pain of her labour. The baby was turned the wrong way, with its face up instead of down. It wasn't a problem, Deborah had assured them, but it was going to make things a little longer and a little less comfortable for Lindsay. "We want to avoid pain meds if possible, though," Deborah cautioned, "They slow labour down, and that gets hard for the baby. Just keep breathing, Lindsay."

Deborah examined, Lindsay breathed, and Danny rubbed and talked, a steady, soothing stream mixing comfort with cheerleading. The contractions were coming so close together that sometimes Lindsay felt she had only one breath between them. Other times she fell asleep for what seemed to be hours before the next contraction. Everything was focused on this one thing; the wave of pain that began at the edges of her consciousness, then swept over her, holding her under the surf, before retreating to the edges again.

Finally, she grabbed Danny's hand, hard, and sobbed, "That's it. I can't do this any more. Make it stop, Danny. Just make it stop."

Deborah smiled in satisfaction, "And that's transition. One more quick exam, Lindsay, but I'm betting you are fully dilated."

Lindsay had to move back to the table for the exam, and Deborah called the birthing team as soon as she had completed it. "Okay, Lindsay, in a little bit you're going to want to push…"

"Now," Lindsay said with determination.

"No, Lindsay, listen to me. I know you want to push, but you need just a few more minutes here before you do. Cleansing breath, then 'hee, hee, hee', okay? Don't push yet."

Lindsay was leaning back on the raised bed, her feet braced below her. The doctor came in at a run, "Okay, Lindsay, let's do this! How ya' feeling?"

"I want to push!" She growled it deep in her throat. Danny looked at her in alarm; he had been warned that his wife might turn into a screaming virago, but no one had warned him about the possibility of a werewolf.

"Good, good. Save some of that energy; you're going to need it. Now let me look, and if I see hair, you're good to go." She motioned to Danny, "You can let go of her hand and come here, Detective. She can do this on her own."

Deborah stepped into Danny's place, and he moved to the bottom of the bed. "Linds, the baby's crowning!"

"You're going to feel the burn now Lindsay, so relax as much as you can and let your body tell you what to do." Deborah was talking quietly in Lindsay's ear.

"I'm going to push," Lindsay said again.

"Use your breath, then. Bear down … 3, 4, 5 … more? Good girl!"

Danny yelled, "Montana! Here he comes!"

"Okay, stop a minute, Lindsay, and breathe! We need to clean out the baby's airway." The doctor moved quickly and efficiently, pressing gently on Lindsay's belly to help her focus again.

"Take a breath, Lindsay. Feel the wave, and push when you're ready."

"Get ready, Detective!"

"Oh God!"

Lindsay was almost silent as she pushed for the last time, only letting out a groan at the last moment. The baby slid out into Danny's waiting hands, and gasped in his first breath, only to let it out again in an angry squall as he went from purple to red in one heartbeat.

"It is a boy. Lindsay, it's a boy." Danny's voice was awed and choked with tears as he cut the cord under the doctor's direction and carried the tiny baby to Lindsay. She reached out her arms as the nurse handed Danny a towel to begin a rough cleaning and keep the baby warm.

"Time of birth: 12:00:01 New Year's Day!" A nurse wrote it on the chart as she looked up and grinned. "Looks like you may have beaten everyone in the New Year's baby stakes, Messers!"

Lindsay and Danny didn't even hear her. All their attention was on the little boy in Lindsay's arms.

Across the city, the lab had exploded in cheers and wanton kissing when the Old Year was officially pronounced, and the New Year was welcomed in. In the midst of all the noise (and some pretty wanton kissing from her husband, who was fending off all the other men), Stella felt her cell phone go off, its merry Trumpet Tune penetrating even the lab rats' cheering and singing of "Auld Lang Syne".

"Hello!" she answered it casually, still gripped in Don's arms, "Danny? Danny, is that you? Wait a minute! Just wait a minute! Don – shut them all up a second, would you?"

Don whistled, a sharp, piercing sound which made the ears ring, but had the desired effect. "Everyone shut up a minute! Messer's on the phone!"

Stella turned up the volume on her phone and people held their breath to hear. "Go ahead, Danny, everyone's listening."

"It's a boy, Stel, a perfect, beautiful little boy, 9 lbs 12 oz. Can you hear him?" In the distance, a baby could just be heard, bawling his lungs out. "Lindsay is great – she's amazing. I've never seen anything like it. It was incredible."

Even the people at the furthest reaches of the lab could hear Danny's voice break. Then he laughed, "Lindsay says to stop talking and tell you to come meet your godson, you and Don. Oh, tell Mac and Sheldon to come too. And Dr. Sid. Hell, tell anyone who wants to come!"

Stella had to clear her throat. "Tell Lindsay we're on our way, and we're bringing the champagne!"

The whole room burst into cheers and yells of congratulations and best wishes to Lindsay as Stella turned off the phone before jumping into Don's arms and kissing him stupid.

By the time Mac, Stella, Don, and Sheldon made it to the birthing centre, Lindsay had already showered and changed into clean clothes, while Danny had watched his son going through the testing every baby does in the first few hours after birth. Danny could hardly bear to let him out of his arms. Lindsay was positively bouncing with energy; she felt as if she had jumped out of a plane and was still floating on adrenalin. She greeted everyone with a kiss and a babbled apology for not explaining what was happening earlier.

"Where's Sid?" she asked, a little surprised. "I thought he'd want to be here!"

"He would have, I'm sure," Stella said, as she hugged Lindsay, "But when we left he was curled up in the morgue with one arm around a tech, and the other around a bottle, snoring! We thought we'd send him in the morning."

Stella was the first to hold the baby, to exclaim over his tiny fingers and fluffy blond hair. He was quiet but awake, examining each person who spoke to him carefully before turning his head to search for his mother's voice again.

Sheldon had grabbed a digital camera on the way out of the lab, and was snapping pictures as if documenting a scene. He preferred the role of observer, even here.

When Don held the baby, he looked at Stella with a hint of longing, "He's so little. I don't even remember Star being this little any more."

Stella laughed, "She was this little only about five months ago, Don!" Having come a little early, Star had been a lot smaller when she was born. Compared to Star, this one looked like he could walk out of the hospital under his own steam. Stella shuddered at the thought of delivering a three month old, and glanced at Lindsay with a touch of awe. She looked pretty serene about it all.

Lindsay caught the look and laughed, "Born for breeding, my doctor back home said. Guess he was right!"

A nurse came to the door just as Don reluctantly handed the baby over to Mac. "Mrs. Messer? There's a reporter here from the Associated Press. She'd like photos and a story."

Danny looked up suspiciously, "What are you talking about?"

The nurse laughed, "I was right! Your baby was the first one born in New York."

She looked around the room at the uncomprehending faces. "The New Year's baby?" She said it slowly, giving them all a minute to catch up. "He was born at 12:00:01? That's the earliest of all the babies born tonight?"

She watched the information sink in around the room. Mac's face split into a grin as he looked at the baby in his arms. "That makes you King of New York tonight, little guy! Hey, Danny, you haven't told us his name. Or are you still working that out?"

Lindsay blushed, "No, we figured that out a long time ago. Turns out we were both sure it was a boy, but there are too many men to name him after."

Danny jumped in, "So we picked one name for him which would remind us of the Grays and one for my family. We figure we'll just have to keep having kids until all the other names have been used up!" He winced when Lindsay and Stella each smacked him, Lindsay on the shoulder but Stella on the head. "Hey," he protested, laughing, "Lindsay was the one who said it!"

"You push a ten pound turkey out your butt and you get to talk about the next one!" Stella told him seriously, as the reporter and photographer came in.

"Can we quote you on that?" asked Casey White, the young reporter who had been assigned to the "soft news" section. She was hoping to get noticed with this story, and her eyes widened in appreciation as she looked around the room. With at least two decorated officers in the room, she thought her chances of a front page story were looking good.

Sure enough, next day, her by-lined story ran on the front page of all the major papers in New York, together with the headline, "New York's Finest Produce New Year's First!"

The accompanying picture had Detective Mac Taylor, Detective Don Flack, Detective Stella Bonasera-Flack, and Dr. Sheldon Hawkes standing behind a beaming Danny and Lindsay holding little Graeme Louis Messer.

_A/N: I have loved this little world, but this is the last story in this particular AU. Now that more information about Lindsay's past is coming out in the show, new possibilities are opening up._

_Thanks to all the people who read the stories, especially this last one, and to all my reviewers who really did show me why people risk putting ideas out into the world. When those ideas are greeted so graciously and sometimes even enthusiastically as mine have been, the impetus becomes a drive, and a pleasure!_

_Happy 2007 (and here's hoping for a great DL ending to Season 3)! _


End file.
